Endless expanse,
stunning blue.
I am nothing,
next to you.
Frameless,
blameless.
Callously true,
asking brashly,
for what is due.
Receding, reclaiming,
recede and reclaim.
Your cyclical melody,
my personal tune.
If there was a way,
I could sing back to you.
In a language that we
both could use.
Then every day,
I'd sit.
Before an audience of dune,
to be your own special choir,
and sing our circle tunes.
YOU ARE READING
Reminiscent: A Collection
Short StoryHi, I'm a writer that tends to work on bigger writing projects, but occasionally I get little things out. This is a place for me to share those little tidbits of writing and I also tend to share the scripts for my speeches too. I hope you enjoy thes...
